


Frustrated

by southsidewrites



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Oikawa Tooru Being an Asshole, Oral Sex, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26433205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southsidewrites/pseuds/southsidewrites
Summary: You're the manager of Oikawa's college volleyball team, and after nearly four straight years of bickering with the unfairly attractive captain, you reach a breaking point. Fortunately, that might be just what it takes to make him admit his feelings for you.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59





	Frustrated

The ball hit the ground with a gentle thud, landing just a few inches behind Oikawa. His hands were still in the air, ready for the throw that never came, and when he turned around to look at you, his face was plastered with his most charming smile.

“What happened there?” he asked, his tone sickeningly sweet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought he was genuinely concerned. But you did know better, and concern was definitely not what Oikawa was feeling.

You gritted your teeth, muttering something utterly inappropriate as Iwaizumi shook his head at you, reminding you that it just wasn’t worth it. As always, you were the one who had to bite your tongue when Oikawa decided to be an obnoxious dick. It had been two hours since practice ended, two hours straight of you tossing balls for Oikawa and Iwaizumi to practice their quick attack. Your arms and shoulders were already sore, reminding you just how much you’d rather be in bed.

“What was that?” Oikawa asked, flashing you that insufferable grin. “Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Nothing,” you replied, your voice low and even. You were not going to give that smug bastard the satisfaction of getting you worked up.

“Oh good!” He turned back toward the net, holding his hands in a ready position. “So, another few tosses?”

You brushed your hair out of your face, grabbing another ball from the bin. Goddamn Oikawa had somehow convinced you to stay. _Unless you don’t want us to win this weekend,_ he had crooned, giving you that look that mimicked sincerity so well that you almost wondered if he was a psychopath. Everyone had been on edge with the Regionals tournament coming up, and the team had been practicing so much you wondered how they stayed upright.

Throwing the next ball on instinct, you cursed below your breath as it flew wide past Oikawa and out of bounds.

You could practically feel the eye roll as Oikawa turned to look at you. “You’d think after being our manager for four years, you’d be able to throw a decent toss. That is one of your only jobs, isn’t it?”

“Oikawa, don’t—”

“No need, Iwaizumi!” you snapped, whipping the next ball at the ground with a smack that made the black-haired man take a large step back. “Let me handle this one.” You crossed the court, stopping just inches from Oikawa and pulling yourself to your full height. “You know damn well that I can throw a ball, Oikawa, seeing as those were the first two I missed in the two fucking hours we’ve been here, maybe the first two I’ve missed since I got roped into this goddamn job freshman year.”

He smirked, crossing his arms as he looked down at you. “So, why are you missing them now?”

“Because it’s nearly nine at night and I haven’t been home in twelve hours!” you snapped. “Unlike _you_ , I can’t keep going forever.” Taking a deep breath, you took a step back from him—in the four years you’d been working with the team, you had a shouted at Oikawa more than a handful of times, and you knew better than to draw it out too long. Oikawa _hated_ to lose, and that included shouting matches with his team manager.

“I don’t remember saying we had to go _forever_ ,” he replied, a hint of an annoyed edge cracking through his cool composure. “Just until Iwaizumi and I had this attack down.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, sure, Oikawa, whatever you say.” Throwing your hands in the air, you turned to walk away from him. “I’m done, though. Find someone else to throw for you.”

“You’re done?” His eyes widened in what actually looked like genuine surprise. “You can’t be done—we still have drills to practice.”

“Wanna bet?” You kept walking, not bothering to turn around.

Iwaizumi called your name, but you ignored him, ready to go home and finally crawl into bed.

“Well, you may as well not come to the tournament this weekend, then!” Oikawa called. “Seeing as you’re done and all.”

“Sounds good to me!” You turned, mimicking his sweet smile. “Have fun at Regionals—I’ll be sure to leave Suki my clipboard.”

“Oikawa, would you just—”

“No,” he snapped, cutting off Iwaizumi. “If she wants to go, let her!”

It took all the self-control you had not to flip him an obscene gesture, but you just keep walking, storming out of the gym and into the women’s locker room. Letting the door slam behind you, you yanked off your sweatshirt, your heart racing from the argument. You flopped onto the bench, dropping your head into your hands as you tried to steady your breathing.

You hated that he had the power to get to you like that. You’d think after four years, you’d be used to his jabs, to the endless teasing and snarky remarks. He’d been that way since you met freshman year, him fresh out of high school where he had been a superstar ace setter, and you relatively new to volleyball but in desperate need of something to do outside of class.

Your relationship hadn’t been bad at first—you realized quickly that underneath the layer of asshole, Oikawa was actually a really good teammate that worked hard to make sure his team was successful. He had even been one of the first people to really give you the rundown on volleyball, making sure you were comfortable in your role before the first real match.

And then, once he was sure you knew what you were doing, the teasing really took off.

Shaking your head, you stood up, opening your locker. You knew it was just how he was, that he talked to everyone that way, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when you’d been up fourteen hours and were already stressed about how they were going to do at the Regionals tournament this weekend. If they lost, it would be the senior’s last college tournament, and Oikawa and Iwaizumi would be crushed.

You grabbed your shirt to tug it off, but before you could, the locker room door squeaked open behind you.

“Oikawa, what the hell?” You yanked the shirt back on, your cheeks heating with embarrassment when you saw who it was. “This is the women’s locker room, you asshole.”

He rolled his eyes, waving off your complaint. “I had a feeling you hadn’t changed yet—can we talk?”

Your mouth fell open slightly, and you started shaking your head. “Iwaizumi made you come in here, didn’t he?”

“Iwaizumi left right after you did,” he answered, an annoyed expression on his face. “Apparently, he’s not too happy with me either.”

“That’s because you’re an asshole.” You grabbed your bag, deciding you didn’t really need to change. Throwing it over your shoulder, you started walking past him.

A firm hand closed around your forearm. “Wait.”

The word seemed to shoot straight through you, a note of desperation making you jerk to a stop.

“What, Oikawa?” you asked, shaking your arm out of his grip. You sighed heavily and turned to look at him, your voice soft with exhaustion. “What do you want to talk about?”

He bit his lip as he looked down at you, his shoulders heaving with a deep breath. “We need you at the tournament this weekend.”

“Oh, really?” Your eyebrows rose. “Seeing as I’m such a useless manager and all, I figured Suki could handle it.”

His lips pressed into a line, the irritation clear in his face. “You know you’re not a useless manager.”

“Oh wow, what a compliment,” you drawled. “Not a useless manager. I’m flattered, Oikawa, really.”

He rolled his eyes, gripping the back of his neck as he looked down at you. “You know that’s not what I mean.” He sighed. “And _I_ need you there this weekend.”

At that, your mouth fell open—you were at a total loss for words for a moment. “You—you what?”

He exhaled harshly, his gaze flicking away from you. “You’ve never missed a match,” he said hurriedly, the words seeming painful on his lips. “You’ve never missed a match, and I’m used to having you there.”

Stifling an amused laugh, your lips curved into a smile. “Oikawa,” you asked slowly, “are you saying that you can’t play without me?”

“I’m saying I’d rather have you there,” he retorted, the edge in his voice returning.

You were grinning widely now, thrilled by this turn of events. “No, Oikawa, I think you’re saying that you can’t play without me, that you _need_ me there.”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair frustratedly. “If that’s how you want to take it, fine, but you better be on that bus with us tomorrow.”

There was still a stunned smile on your face as you shook your head. “No.”

“No?” Oikawa’s eyes narrowed with confusion. “Did you really just say no?”

“Sure did.” You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest stubbornly. “I’m not going unless you apologize.”

He scoffed, giving you an annoyed look. “Apologize? For what?”

“Well, treating me like shit, for one,” you said, mimicking his smug tone. “Maybe also for barging in on me when I could have been naked. Oh, and what about—”

Out of nowhere, Oikawa’s lips were on yours, your hands frozen at your sides as he gripped your shoulders. The kiss was quick, just long enough for the shock to pass and for you to realize that you kind of liked being kissed by Oikawa. Then, when he pulled back, his brown eyes were fixed on yours with an expression you had never seen on the confident captain’s face before—nerves.

“Oikawa, what…” you breathed, your mind spinning. “What is—why?”

He sighed, his hands drifting down your shoulders to your upper arms. “I told you, I need you at the tournament,” he said, his gaze flicking nervously away from yours. “And I obviously don’t mean as a manager.”

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t daydreamed some version of this moment countless times over the past few years, but you had never expected it to come _true_ , much less after an argument that ended in you storming off the court. In fact, you had put a lot of effort toward eliminating the crush entirely, knowing that Oikawa could have his pick of nearly any girl in the university and didn’t show even a hint of interest in you.

“Oikawa, are you serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious,” he answered, annoyed. “Damn it, can you take anything seriously?”

“Can _you?_ ” you laughed, lifting your hand to his chin to force him to look at you. “I’m pretty sure this is the first genuine thing you’ve ever said to me.”

His lips quirked into a half-grin, and you could swear he was leaning into your touch. “So, does that mean you’ll come to the tournament this weekend?”

You lifted your other hand to his hair, running it through the silky locks as you took a step closer to him. “I believe I’m still waiting for an apology.”

“Fucking apology,” he muttered, pulling you close for another kiss. “I’m not going to apologize when you’ve been too dumb to notice me flirting with you for the past three years.”

You laughed as he pushed you back into the row of lockers. “Well, then.”

“I’ll show you an apology.” He kissed you hard, his lips like fire on your skin as he trailed his way down your jaw to your neck, nipping lightly between kisses. His hands were tight on your hips, his fingertips just barely tugging against the waistband of your shorts. “Can I—” he breathed, glancing pointedly down at said shorts.

“You’re going to apologize by going down on me?” you laughed, breathless from his kiss. Just the thought of it made you shiver with desire, your clothes suddenly feeling way too constrictive.

“If you don’t stop talking, I’m not going to do anything,” he murmured, one of his hands sliding up your shirt to rest on your lower back. Holding your bodies close together, he caught your lips in another heated kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, feeling his hardness through his shorts as you arched into him. “Fuck, Oikawa,” you gasped. “Please.”

He grinned, flipping his hair off his face before crouching down. Grabbing your waistband more firmly, he slowly started pulling the material down as he pressed his lips into your hipbone.

Gripping his hair, you briefly wished you had worn sexier underwear, but you didn’t have much time to think before his lips were on your stomach, shoving your shirt up. You pulled it off the rest of the way and leaned back on the lockers, letting him do most of the work of holding you upright.

The metal was cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to Oikawa’s lips that were like fire as they trailed along the hem of your panties. He nipped and sucked, teasing his way down to your thighs and nudging them apart. _“Fuck_ ,” he breathed, looking up to see you in nothing but a bra. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

His words shot straight through to your core, your hips bucking toward him as you whined needily. “C’mon, Oikawa, stop teasing.”

“Stop teasing?” he mused, his breath hot against you as he hiked one of your legs onto his shoulder. “What kind of ridiculous request is that?”

“I thought this was supposed to be my apology,” you replied, trying to use your grip on his hair to redirect him.

“Don’t make me regret telling you,” he muttered, dragging a finger up your slit and feeling the wetness through the material of your panties. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

You moaned, half-pleasure and half-annoyance. “Yeah, because you’re such a fucking tease.”

“Aw, stop trying to flatter me, beautiful, you know I have an insufferable ego.”

You rolled your eyes, choking back a moan as he pressed his fingertip roughly onto your clit. Your legs shook as you regripped his hair, doing your best to stay upright. At that, Oikawa’s impatience took over, and he yanked your panties down, dropping your legs just long enough for you to get them off.

When his fingertips dragged across your soaked pussy, it was like someone shooting fire through your veins. His touch was light, still teasing, and in drastic contrast with the intensity of his kisses.

“Oikawa,” you moaned, tipping your head back against the lockers. “Goddamn it.”

He laughed, the rumble sending shockwaves through you. “You look so good begging for me,” he mused, still gently tracing his fingers through your folds, just barely avoiding your clit. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to slam you against these goddamn lockers and just have my way with you.”

“Then have your way with me,” you begged, the sounds coming from you downright pitiful. “Please just touch my clit already.”

“Like this?” he asked, flicking his thumb against it. Your back arched, and it was only his grip on your thigh keeping your upright. “Fuck,” he chuckled, his mouth only centimeters from your pussy. “You really are needy.”

“Oh my god, Tooru,” you whined. “Stop being such an asshole.”

At the sound of his first name, Oikawa let out a low moan. With a quick glance up at your face, he lowered his lips to you, desperate to hear you moan his name again. He started with broad, slow strokes, his tongue just barely brushing against your clit before making another stroke.

“That’s it beautiful,” he murmured, sliding two fingers inside you with ease. “So, fucking tight.”

You were already on the brink of orgasm, his teasing alone enough to put you on edge. And now, with his absolutely _skillful_ mouth on your pussy, you didn’t think you’d be able to last long.

Oikawa’s fingers were long and perfect inside you, searching out just the right spot to make you come undone. He hummed with pleasure when he brushed against the spongey patch that almost made you scream with pleasure.

You could barely even form words anymore—the combination of his fingers inside you and his tongue flicking rhythmically over your clit was sending your body into overdrive. All you could do was whimper his name, your hands in his hair as you tried desperately not to collapse on top of him. Your legs were sore, Oikawa holding them firmly apart so that you didn’t suffocate him, and you could feel your arousal running down your thighs.

Pulling away for just a second, Oikawa looked up at you with a grin. “You seem just about ready to cum all over my face, beautiful.”

You nodded hurriedly, pushing his head back toward you. “Please, Tooru, I’m so close.”

His mouth returned to your clit, alternating between sucking and flicking so quickly that the sensations started to meld together. Your eyes squeezed shut, your mouth falling open as you hurtled toward the edge.

“Tooru, I’m— _fuck_ —I’m cumming!”

He held your thighs a bit tighter, keeping you upright as you came undone for him. Electricity seemed to shoot through you, your mind going blank of everything but his mouth on your clit and his fingers inside you. It was almost overwhelming—you had never cum so hard in your life. When you finally came down, your body was weak, being hit with little aftershocks as Oikawa slipped his fingers out.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he murmured, lowering your leg to the ground and taking a firm grip on your hips. “Fuck, you looked so good cumming for me.”

Slowly, you pulled your eyes open to see him looking at you, his brown eyes warm and his pupils blown wide with desire. You dropped your hands to his shoulders, pulling him to you for a kiss.

“That was some apology,” you murmured, holding him tight against you. “Feels like you could use a little help now, though.”

He bit back a moan as you jerked your hips into his bulge. His shorts didn’t do a good job of hiding it, and you were absolutely desperate to get him naked now.

“We don’t have to right now,” he said, his voice soft as he cupped your cheek surprisingly tenderly. “This was your apology, after all.”

You laughed, running your hands under his shirt to start pushing it off. “And you know what would really prove you’ve learned your lesson?”

“What?” he asked, grinning as he pulled his shirt the rest of the way off.

“If you fucked me,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his neck.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, pressing you back into the lockers. “I’d be happy to.”

You palmed his erection through his shorts, feeling just how hard he was for you. “Do you have a condom?”

At that, his face dropped. “Shit, no, I don’t.”

“Really?” you asked, teasing him. “The great Oikawa Tooru doesn’t keep a condom stash with him at all times?”

“I’m not a complete animal,” he muttered, rolling his hips into your hand. “And I didn’t exactly plan on getting laid tonight.”

“Fuck.” You glanced over at the clock to see it was now well after 10:00 PM. “Well, that’s probably for the best anyway since we have to be on a bus in less than eight hours.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he grumbled, still keeping you pinned against the lockers. “I finally take the condoms out of my locker and then _this?_ Fucking cursed.”

You laughed, grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss. “How about this? When you win all your matches tomorrow, you can come back to my place to celebrate?”

Smirking, he kissed you again. “And what if I don’t win all my matches?”

You rolled your eyes. “If by some miracle, some other team manages to beat you, I’ll be sure to console you appropriately.”

“Trying to make me throw my matches?” he laughed, running his hands down to your ass to squeeze tightly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jumping, you wrapped your legs around him. “So, you better win for me, got it?”

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'm considering writing a part two about what happens after the tournament, so be sure to let me know if you'd be interested.
> 
> Update: I've scrapped the idea of a part two for now. Sorry to anyone who was hoping for more of this, but it's just been sitting for too long. That's definitely not to say there won't be more smutty Oikawa in the future, though!
> 
> As always, feel free to hit me up on tumblr @southsidewrites if you have any requests!


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